


when i am numbering my foes

by lessthanfew



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Assassins & Hitmen, Crushes, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned Nakamoto Yuta, Non-Linear Narrative, Renjun leads a double life, Very slight mention of blood and violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29654859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lessthanfew/pseuds/lessthanfew
Summary: In his memories, Jaemin had always had his lips pulled into a smile, warm and saccharine, and he’s not too sure when it started. He’s not too sure when he knew.But there’s something reassuring about the way Jaemin makes him feel like this is all he is — just a blushing college boy in a soft lavender sweater.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Comments: 23
Kudos: 78
Collections: Challenge #5 — I heard a secret..





	when i am numbering my foes

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is gonna be extremely vague and it probably has a lot of inconsistencies and bad writing, bewarned. i hope u all enjoy nonetheless <3 title is a lyric from the song 'there's too much love' by belle & sebastian.

_**> log_001** _

There’s a metaphorical badge of honor when you’re one of the youngest assassins in an entire clan, but Renjun finds himself refusing to have any of it. 

He doesn’t wear it over his sleeve — with his chest puffed up and swelling with pride — no. 

Instead, he buries it with every single draw of a gun, blade of a knife, and move of the life he leads with it, and hides behind a life he wishes was actually his to keep.

_**> log_023** _

It’s embarrassing, the amount of times Renjun had caught himself staring at one of his friends, Na Jaemin. If they’re even considered friends. 

He can’t quite help it, though, because Jaemin is pretty. Everything about him is. Renjun can name a few, like his voice, his lashes, his eyes. Even the smile he pulls from across the coffee shop is pretty; raising his hand to give Renjun a small wave. 

Renjun blushes at the realization that he had been caught staring by the person he had been staring at. 

Despite the embarrassment, he wills himself to return the wave. It’d be rude not to.

He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by the voice of the barista calling out his name. 

“Tea for Renjun!”

Pursing his lips and retracting his hand, he hoists himself up from his seat, making his way towards the counter. 

It’s the same barista — _Yuta_ , he faintly recalls — who’s been serving him in this coffee shop since the first day he’s stepped foot onto campus. 

Yuta hands him his order with a small grin that Renjun happily returns, and for a second he lets his thoughts linger to the image of Yuta when he’s not smiling. 

It’s cold, stonefaced, _intimidating._

It’s a type of face Renjun isn’t foreign to, a face that would blend in with suits and guns and knives and hushed whispers over the telecom — but Yuta is kind. 

Yuta is gentle. He is the blossoms in spring and the warmth of a light on a cold chilly night and Renjun immediately erases the thoughts and memories of his life on the other side, pushing it to the back of his mind, and he keeps walking, making his way towards the exit. 

Life in college is an escape. Or at least, he tries really hard to think it is, no matter how many things seem to fit their way into this life — this life where his hands aren’t stained with the blood of men he refuses to remember names of. Where there is no threat of being caught. Where there is no cold, unforgiving metal of a gun in his hold. 

All these thoughts race in his head, slowing him down unknowingly. Slow enough for Jaemin to retrieve his order and catch up to his pace, walking with him side-by-side. 

When Renjun looks up, the smile that greets him is blinding, and silently, in his head, he wishes he had this — if nothing else. 

_**> log_013** _

He’s not too sure when the thing with Jaemin started. 

All his thoughts and feelings blur into a vague mess of a timeline. 

He remembers the feeling of butterflies in his stomach accompanying the crawling burn of a blush. The stolen glances he took from across the lecture hall. Tufts of cotton candy pink. Jaemin’s hand lingering at the small of his waist, and the way the area tingles even long after he’s left. 

In his memories, Jaemin had always had his lips pulled into a smile, warm and saccharine, and he’s not too sure when it started. He’s not too sure when he knew. 

But there’s something reassuring about the way Jaemin makes him feel like this is all he is — just a blushing college boy in a soft lavender sweater, utterly infatuated and uncontrollably enamoured. 

“Injun!” Jaemin yells from the far end of campus, waving his arms with his signature all-teeth smile. 

He’s not too sure what it is about Jaemin that makes him feel like this, but whatever it is, it compels him to run towards the boy with open arms. 

_**> log_015.6** _

His friends are great. They all have a dynamic unlike any other, and he and Donghyuck are like a team. 

It’s as if they were made together, two halves of a whole. 

There are antics that, together, only they could pull off, and the joy and laughter they pull from their friends is something Renjun revels in. 

With Mark, he realizes his affinity for singing, and it’s nothing short of magical when he finds out Chenle and Donghyuck sing too. 

The three of them would join to create a beautiful harmony, while Mark plays a few chords on his guitar, and soon enough singing with them easily becomes one of his favorite past times. 

He finds out that with Jeno and Jisung, they have a lot of common interests. 

It’s a common occurrence for Renjun to be enlightened whenever he and Jisung share conversations under the stars. The boy knows more than he lets on — and with that Renjun forms some sort of respect for him. 

He’s never really learned to appreciate stars on missions, missing it by miles as he rushes in stealth from one destination to the next while they soar into the night sky that’s left neglected above him.

He develops a similar taste in movies with Jeno. If it’s because it’s Jeno who introduced him to his first few films that instigated it, he’s by no means complaining either way.

Sometimes, Jaemin tags along too, in their little movie sessions. He’s the one that prepares the food, cooking diligently in Jeno’s dorm kitchen.

Those sessions usually end up in cuddles, making Jeno retreat into his room almost immediately after the movie in good-hearted nature to leave the two to their own devices. 

And if those sessions are his favorite, too, no one needs to know.

“Why Nana?” Through his uncontrollable grin, he asks in a hushed whisper, as if the silence is glass and he’s afraid of breaking it. 

Jaemin shrugs, smile not once ever having left his face. 

“It’s just my last name, but I never really knew.” He says as they play with each other’s fingertips — legs tangled in a mess of limbs underneath the blanket. 

Renjun nods in acknowledgement, letting out a small ‘ _ahh,_ ’ then he grows quiet, zoning out into his thoughts.

After a pause, Jaemin nudges his ankle. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes are expectant when he’s looking down at him, always so caring and attentive in a way that pulls on the strings of his heart. 

The same feeling is invoked when Jaemin pouts at his lack of response, and Renjun finally finds himself back in the moment, shoving Jaemin lightly with a giggle. “I’m okay. Really.”

There’s quick work of tangling fingers and slotting of hands. Discovers that his hand fits perfectly into his. 

“You’re sure?” Jaemin pushes, and tries again. 

“No,” he finally admits, head rolling to rest on Jaemin’s shoulder. He nibbles on his bottom lip and looks at their entwined hands through his lashes, wistfully thinking about how they could be so much more. 

So many things cross his mind. All the things he could say. 

But instead, he settles for shaking his head, looking back up at Jaemin. “I’m not okay, but I will be.”

He’s briefly brought back to conversations with Jisung — wishes upon a star. He wonders if they’re well within his favor for that last sentence to form some semblance of truth. 

_**> log_025** _

The thing is with secrets that sit still waiting on the tip of your tongue, despite the desperate attempts to push them to the back of your head, is that everything around you is a painful reminder of what you’re trying to hide. 

Sometimes it’s the synergy between him and Donghyuck — swift and coordinated like a practiced push and pull. There’s a vision in his mind, an image in his head, of them working alongside each other. 

It’s like Jeno on his laptop, playing games of strategy with the rapid clicks of mouse and keys, hands flying like there’s no time to lose. Jeno would never purposely put his life to danger, working with all his power to have his back. It’s because of this that he knows he will always have his back too, in a time of need.

Mark’s leadership is miraculous, despite the endless pranks and antics the youngest duo pulls. He exudes an air of authority that gets them to listen when the time is right, and the clutch never ceases to amaze him. 

And apart from those things, there are moments where his hand itches to his waist, thigh, and even to his ankles, that come like second nature.

He finds himself instinctively reaching for those areas, even with the knowledge that nothing is ever really there. Not in school at least. Never when he’s with them. 

(He always feels the burn of a stare somewhere whenever it happens though, but he figures it comes with the itch. 

Somehow that doesn’t really put his nerves to ease either.)

_**> log_323** _

Insistently, the burn of a stare lingers like it’s waiting. Like he’s an unsuspecting prey — the burn of a stare watchful, slowly creeping up on him like a predator waiting to pounce.

It has him unnerved outside a lecture hall, leg bouncing while waiting for the minutes to pass.

The burn fades though, as soon as Jaemin is within his line of sight, and he feels his worries wash away.

It’s always like this when it comes to Jaemin.

So whenever Jaemin smiles at him, instead of the ache of paranoia that seep into his bones, Renjun finds that he feels nothing like hiding. Nothing like living a double-edged sword of a life. 

Instead, his two worlds shrink into one, and he is only Huang Renjun, college student — soft and weak for Na Jaemin’s smile.

_**> log_813** _

He gets a note on his last class of the day. 

It lies inconspicuously on the pastel highlighted surface of his lecture notes, almost innocent if it weren’t for the nagging feeling that makes itself known in his mind again. 

His head shoots up on instinct, and he takes a cursory glance around the lecture hall, spotting a few familiar faces. 

There is Donghyuck chatting away with Shotaro in a far off corner. There is Yangyang hovering around Jeno in idle conversation. 

Everyone else seems to be in no less hurry to leave the room, but the same is to say for his hammering heart. 

Swiftly, he packs his bag, and shakes the nagging feeling off his mind. 

The note takes him to a familiar destination — an old abandoned factory — a place that’s the same as he’s left it all those years ago. 

Too familiar as the scene of what went down still flashes vividly against closed eyelids, like it always did since then.

Panic rises up in his throat, and the nagging feeling is back, prodding against his chest now. 

His palms start sweating, and what finally pushes him to overwhelm is when he feels the burn of a stare.

“Injun-ah, it’s over.”

He freezes in his place momentarily, before slowly turning around in search for the source of the sound.

The burn of a stare fades off like it did the first time, disappearing when he finds the source of the sound, and slowly he feels the weight of his worlds crashing down. 

“You knew?” He finally speaks into the silence, shutting his eyes. The answer to his question seems to be the last thing he has left to know for certain.

A cold metal presses against his cheek, ridges molding into his skin. It’s unmistakeable — the cold. It’s what has this nightmare feeling all too real.

“Always have.”

When he opens his eyes, Jaemin is smiling. 

He heaves a deep sigh. 

The look in Jaemin’s eyes are lifeless, and Renjun recognizes the blurry divide of his two worlds. 

Jaemin, for all that he makes him forget, is the life he was trying so hard to run away from.

**Author's Note:**

> ... how are u still here. aaa anyway thank u for making it this far! it's not much but its honest work ^-^ lmk if u enjoyed!
> 
> [21/03/01] edit: hi!! i guess you can say this is my first published work <: i wasn't the proudest of this one and initially wanted to stay anonymous but i wanted to thank all the comments personally so... thank u so much (:
> 
> find me on here! [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/toothache) [twt](https://twitter.com/dreamoir)


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